Twist of Fate: Love and Copulation
by whoa nellie
Summary: Harry and Seven take things to the next level.


Originally posted 12/11/02

Title: Twist of Fate: Love and Copulation  
Author: Whoa Nellie

Series: Voyager  
Rating: R  
Codes: K/7  
Synopsis: Harry and Seven take things to the next level.

Author's note: Previous stories from the Twist of Fate storyline (in order): Blessings of the Sky Spirits, Wyrd, What Comes Naturally, Fresh Perspective, Culinary Delights, Chaos Theory, Unforeseen Circumstances, A Matter of Definition

This is an edited down version of the original. If you are 18 or older and would like to read the original version, it can be found at Whoa Nellie's Sci-Fi Romance Website. The link can be found on our author page.

As always Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them.   
Feedback is always appreciated.

LOVE AND COPULATION

"Why are we not yet copulating?"

Harry Kim barely managed to avoid spitting his breakfast all over his tray, already hearing Tom and B'Elanna snickering across the table. Praying that he hadn't actually heard that right, he looked up at the beautiful, blonde ex-Borg whom he'd been dating for some time. Seven had declined to have breakfast with him, citing duties that needed her attention; now she stood beside him. "What?"

Seven repeated her question, louder. "Why are we not yet copulating?"

Snickers turned to outright laughter as Harry turned beet red and hastily stood, grabbing her hand. "Outside," he muttered.

Across the mess hall, Sassy was having breakfast with Chakotay and Kathryn. Once Harry had dragged a confused Seven from the room, she turned back to them, arching an eyebrow over her cup of coffee. "Don't they teach the birds and the bees at Starfleet?" 

"I haven't heard you complaining," Chakotay retorted to his wife with a grin.

Janeway sighed, shaking her head. "This is more than I ever wanted to know about my officers' private lives."

Outside in the corridor, Harry pulled Seven around and backed her up against the wall. Weeks of kisses full of unfulfilled promise and innocent dates had made him perpetually frustrated. For all her intelligence, Seven was emotionally naive and he had been trying to help her understand the feelings that went with relationships. They had so much in common, he could easily see a future for them but not if he rushed things beyond her emotional comprehension. Not sure how to handle her question, he captured her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss. Those full lips yielded easily to the firm pressure of his own lips and parted obediently to the probing of his tongue. It never failed to humble him how very vulnerable she was beneath her Vulcanesque exterior. His body, already hard and throbbing, rocked against hers in a simulation of the subject of her earlier question, the very answer that he couldn't put into words.

A familiar spark flared in her abdomen when Harry's tongue slipped into the moist warmth of her mouth. Pressed against the wall of the corridor, her breasts were crushed by the hard expanse of his chest. This activity was eminently pleasant every time he initiated it. The muscular tone of his body surrounding her interfered with her cognition and yet left her feeling quite satisfied. His face appeared so tender when he looked at her, not that she could see his expression at this particular instance. The intense sensations that circulated through her when their bodies connected always seemed to cause a heaviness in her eyelid region that alleviated only when she permitted them to close, even if that act did increase the sensations themselves. Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him closer. Weeks of these kisses without anything further happening had created a concern that perhaps Harry didn't wish to pursue a further relationship. For this moment, feeling his hips against her and his tongue dancing with hers, she felt less uncertain about the situation than she had on her way to the mess hall that morning.

His body was ready to explode when he finally broke the kiss, his lungs clamoring for air and every other part of him clamoring for her. "Copulating is not the goal of a relationship," Harry whispered, his forehead resting lightly against hers.

Seven was confused and his nearness, his touch and his scent were continuing to cause a significant amount of interference in her cognitive processors. "Human relationships occur for the purpose of procreation. My research clearly indicates the act of copulation occurring frequently in intimate relationships."

Groaning softly at that image, he tried to rein in his frustrated needs. "There's more to it than that, you're not supposed to copulate--make love--until you're sure of how you feel about the other person."

"And you are not sure of your feelings for me?" If this is what it meant to be in a relationship, she wasn't sure she wanted to continue.

Harry tipped her face up for another long, passionate kiss. Tracing her swollen lips with his finger, he murmured, "I've been sure of my feelings for you since the first time I saw you."

"Then why . . .?"

"I've been waiting for you." He combed his fingers through her soft, flaxen tresses. She had taken to wearing her hair down which she knew pleased him. "I wanted to give you time to figure out how you felt about me."

Seven tried to catalog her emotions toward him. "I anticipate spending time with you," she began. "I think of you an average of seventeen point four times in the course of my duty shifts which--"

Covering her mouth gently with his fingers, he had only one question. "Do you love me?"

"Yes, based on my research the feelings that I experience toward you would be categorized as love," she acknowledged.

Harry closed his eyes and pulled her tighter against him, his hands around her waist. Her body pressed into his, his uniform unbearably tight, he savored the words that he'd wanted to hear for so long. "I love you, too," he replied finally. He sighed deeply, "this is not a conversation you should have with a guy fifteen minutes before he has to go on duty, though."

She tensed, "I apologize--"

"Don't ever apologize for telling me how you feel," he admonished. "I just meant that this uniform is going to be pretty uncomfortable today."

She could feel him pressed against her and understood his reference. "We have fifteen minutes, would that not be sufficient time?"

"Not by half," Harry sighed. He searched her face. "Have dinner with me tonight, 1800 hours? And wear something a little easier for me to get you out of." The last comment was said with a wink and a smile.

His smile always did strange things to her stomach but this time the sensation was lower. Returning his smile, she nodded, "I will comply."

This was definitely going to be a long day, Harry decided. Unwilling to end this interlude, he asked. "Are you on your way to Astrometrics?"

"No, I am not on duty today. I am due in Sickbay."

Concern flooded him. "Are you all right?" 

Seven was suddenly uncomfortable. How would he react to her cybernetic components? Their previous interaction had been under the influence of a potent aphrodisiac; but now, in normal circumstances, would his feelings be altered? "I am fine, my . . . Borg components require routine diagnostics and maintenance."

Relieved that it was just a check-up, he traced her ocular implant. "Can I walk you to Sickbay? I definitely want you in perfect health for our dinner tonight."

His voice didn't change, nor did the dilation of his pupils, she noted with satisfaction. "That would be pleasing." With his hand clasping hers, warmth spread through her body as they walked down the corridor together. Suddenly she realized something. "You are not supposed to discuss copulation in public."

"No, " Harry acknowledged. "That is usually a private matter."

She stopped. "I have erred, I should return and apologize."

"No!" He gripped her hand tighter. "You absolutely should not." The humor of her suggestion struck him and he began chuckling. "Everyone knows that we're dating and that was a little more information than I'd prefer they have, but no harm was done."

"I shall endeavor to be more discrete in the future." He wasn't mad at her, that was all that mattered.

"Just don't ever stop being honest with me, okay?" She was so unbelievably precious and she was in love with him. Life was perfect, Harry decided as they continued on.

...

Harry checked the chronometer for the hundredth time as he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Fortunately it had been a quiet shift on the bridge because he'd been preoccupied with the details of this evening all day. It had to be special, but not too fancy or detailed. A simple, romantic, candlelight dinner in his quarters--just like their first date, would be perfect and reassuringly familiar. He'd shed his uniform in favor of a loose white shirt tucked into a snug pair of black denim pants. Knowing Seven's penchant for promptness, he lit the candles and began the music at precisely 17:59. One minute later, the door chime sounded. "Come."

Seven smoothed her hands down the simple, blue sheath dress that she had decided on for the evening. During her relationship with Harry, she had learned the impact of appearances. While his brown eyes always made her feel special, his pupils dilated an extra .15 millimeters when she wore a softly-colored, flowing dress with her hair down. She stepped almost hesitantly through the doorway when it slid open. Nervousness was irrelevant to the situation, yet it was there nonetheless.

"You look beautiful," Harry muttered. He met her just inside the door and gently brushed his lips across hers. This night would last as long as humanly possible.

Leaning into his kiss, her hands braced against his chest she realized that the fabric of his shirt was thinner than the uniform fabric. She could feel the heat and smooth texture of his skin through the material. "There is only a single clasp to this dress, as requested," she informed him. "It is--"

"Whoa, slow down," he interrupted, his finger tracing the lush outline of her lips softening his words. "We've got all night and getting there is half the fun."

Seven obediently followed him to the table, smiling gratefully as he held her chair for her. Their dinner was a light fare of steamed vegetables and breadsticks; there was something oddly disquieting about the way Harry's white teeth bit into a piece of broccoli. She found herself unable to tear her gaze away from him throughout the meal. With every bite, her blood flow increased until, by the time they were finished, her body was throbbing forcefully. When he lifted his napkin to wipe his mouth, she reacted in a manner that surprised both of them. Swiftly, she reached out to halt his hand and moved around the table to lean over him. Holding his head steady with her hands, she flicked her tongue out and licked his face clean. She slid onto his lap to achieve a more efficient position in which to continue and her tongue slipped between his lips in an effort to be thorough. Searching every millimeter of his mouth was immensely pleasing and she found herself pressing closer to the hard warmth of his chest as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, recalling that he commonly did that with her tongue during their kisses.

If he didn't know better, he'd swear Seven had been deliberately trying to drive him insane during dinner. She hadn't taken her eyes off him the whole time and watching her envelope those breadsticks with her luscious lips and bite into them had been maddening. Now, she was licking his face and her tongue was in his mouth with her body pressing against him. This was really pushing the limits of his endurance. When she pulled his tongue back into her mouth, he broke the kiss. "Okay, so much for dinner," Harry set her on her feet and stood. "Let's dance."

"Dance? I thought we were going to--"

His kiss cut her off. "Relax, Seven, this is much more pleasant when you take your time."

Seven stiffened, that line ringing in her ears. A second later she recalled where she'd heard it.

"Seven? Are you all right?" Harry saw her expression change but didn't know what it meant.

"I am fine, I simply recalled you saying that exact line before," she glided into his arms and they began dancing to the soft music.

Settling into an easy rhythm with the beautiful woman in his arms, he thought back over their brief relationship. He couldn't recall such a conversation before. "I did? When?"

"It wasn't really you," she explained. "It was merely a dream." Her head rested on the broad slope of his shoulder as they swayed to the music. As always, he smelled quite masculine.

A powerful spark shot through Harry's body. "You had a dream about me?"

"Perhaps this is another subject that shouldn't be discussed with anyone, a personal matter," Seven speculated aloud.

"Well," he began, his hand caressing the length of her back. "When you're in love with someone, you should be able to tell them anything."

Judging from the reaction of his body, the thought of her dreaming about him was exciting, so she told him. "Prior to our interaction in Sickbay and the inception of our social interaction, I experienced a dream involving you."

"What kind of dream?" his arms tightened around her.

"It was a dream of an erotic nature, I believe the appropriate term would be 'wet dream'."

Harry couldn't even articulate a response to that statement. His arms tightened around her and he groaned softly.

Physically frustrated with the leisurely pace Harry had been taking things at, Seven analyzed his reaction and determined that the pace of the evening might speed up significantly if she provided him with extensive details of her dream. Snuggling closer, she began describing the dream as vividly as possible, occasionally punctuating the story by scraping her fingernail up his spine.

With her soft voice weaving a vivid, erotic picture in his ear, his hands slowly stroked down her body to cup her hips. His mouth watered at the image of him suckling her breasts. His fingers began bunching the fabric of her skirt, pulling it up so that his hands could caress the soft skin of her thighs. He whimpered loudly, interrupting her, when he discovered that she wasn't wearing underwear. "God, Seven."

"If you're referring to the lack of undergarments, they seemed unnecessary given the objective of our evening." If she had known that knowledge would have such an effect, she would have brought that fact to his attention earlier. "You did request that I wear something easy for you to remove. As I tried to point out earlier, there is only a single clasp that will remove all of my clothing."

There wasn't enough oxygen in the room. "You mean," Harry whispered hoarsely. "If I hold this," his fingers found the clasp at her hip, "and pull it like so." The fabric fell to the floor, leaving her clad only in those impossibly high heels she replicated in every style of footwear she wore. Then he noticed that the shoes weren't all she was wearing under the dress; just above her right knee was the garter he'd caught at Commander Chakotay's wedding reception and asked her to hold for him.

Noticing the direction of his gaze, she spoke up. "I was uncertain of the use of the garter, but it seemed significant to wear tonight."

Harry swept her into his arms, his lips claiming hers as he carried her to the bed. Gently laying her down, he sat down beside her and lingeringly removed her shoes. "It's perfect, you're perfect." He stood up beside the bed and took a deep breath, removing his clothes slowly, trying to get his desires under control. One by one his shaking hands opened the buttons on his shirt down to the waistband of his pants. Unbuckling his belt, he pulled the shirt free. Seven had risen to her knees on the bed and slipped her hands under the shirt, guiding it off his shoulders. At her tentative touch, he shuddered uncontrollably.

"I am sorry," Seven whispered, misinterpreting his reaction. His smooth, tanned chest had been so inviting, drawing her to caress the warm expanse. "I do not know precisely what is expected of me in this situation; the database was not clear."

He caught her hands as she drew them back, reminding himself that of the two, he was infinitely more experienced. Gently, he kissed each palm and laid them against his chest, covering them with his own larger hands. His voice was soft and low, "No expectations, no objectives, no responsibilities; just us. Tonight is about physically demonstrating our feelings, nothing more, nothing less," as he spoke his mouth nibbled along one delicate collarbone. Where her shoulder and neck joined, he paused to nuzzle the warm skin.

Her skin had increased in sensitivity at some point, the slight movement of air in the room sent chills over her. Her body moved closer to Harry's, seeking the heat from his tight, muscled body. The point on her shoulder where his mouth was latched onto her seemed to be connected to her lungs, causing her breathing to increase significantly. Her breasts felt enlarged, arching toward the broad chest in front of her; if only she could press them into that chest it might alleviate the aching. A little frightened at the intensity of the sensations and the feelings of helplessness it evoked, she struggled for focus. "Perhaps some experimentation would be permissible?"

"You can do whatever your heart desires, sweetheart," Harry murmured, his hands busily delighting in the contrast of her satiny, soft skin over taut, firm curves. He gasped then moaned as her hands efficiently freed him from his pants. When she began moving her hand, varying the pressure and movements, he understood the earlier reference to experimentation. Pulling away, he kicked off his shoes and shed his remaining clothing. Breathing hard, he joined her on the bed, stretching them both out in a more comfortable position. Propped on one elbow facing her, he tenderly brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "I am yours to command, my love."

Her heart rate was too excessive, that must be the cause of the pulsating sensation between her legs. Shifting closer, she lowered her face to his and brushed her lips across the firm contours of his mouth. Her fingers entwined in his hair, tilting his head up. Waiting until his eyes opened to focus on hers, she plunged her tongue into his mouth, measuring the dilation of his pupils as she stroked and explored the surfaces inside his mouth. His brown eyes turned almost black as she watched his reactions. She broke the kiss and began tasting his bronze skin down the length of his throat, across his massive chest, finding a dark, rock-hard nipple. Flicking it with her tongue elicited a gasp from Harry; when she took it between her teeth, sucking it as he had hers in her dream, he whimpered and entwined his large hand in her hair, holding her closer. His chest was heaving against her, evidence of his labored breathing. His body was covered in a sheet of sweat when he took her hand away and rolled her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress. His eyes were still dark as they looked down at her. "Harry," she whispered. "I am nervous, I do not fear copulating but I find myself apprehensive nonetheless."

It had taken all of his willpower to allow her leisurely exploration of his body, but hearing her tentative confession sapped him of any urgency. Burying his hands in her silky, blond tresses, he leaned down to capture her lips in a deep, lingering kiss until he felt the tension melt away. "Do you want me to stop?"

He was so close, his body barely brushing her. Briefly considering her options, she found the possibility of ceasing this activity to be unacceptable. "No," her response was barely audible and for a second she was afraid that he hadn't heard. 

"Then just relax and trust me, let me show you how wonderful we are together."  
  
A long, indescribably wonderful time later, his weight collapsed onto her, a delicious feeling of being utterly safe and cherished. So this was the experience of physical intimacy with one whom you shared feelings with. Her earlier feelings of apprehension seemed ridiculous in the pleasant euphoria of the moment. This was definitely an activity she would like to engage in frequently with Harry.

"Are you all right?" After several minutes, although his breathing had slowed, he was in no hurry to move.

Seven tightened herself around him. "I am perfect. You?"

Harry gave a rueful chuckle. "I'd say I was on cloud nine, but given my current position..."

Recognizing his attempt at humor, she replied lightly. "If you would prefer to be with a nine, or perhaps a four, six, or other numerical value, I could--"

Harry silenced her with a long, deep kiss. "How about seventh heaven, lucky number seven, seven is a magic number, seven degrees of freedom..."

"I am not familiar with that last colloquialism."

His fingers mindlessly roamed over her sweat-dampened skin, "Okay, you caught me; I ran out of seven references."

The movements of his hand along her body was causing a definite resurgence of arousal; Seven shifted her legs up around his hips. "Perhaps you should reflect on the properties of the number seven more deeply," she suggested, helpfully.

Harry moved his hips forward. "Like this?"

"Precisely," she gasped.

FINIS


End file.
